


You're Breaking Your Own Heart

by stilessexual



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilessexual/pseuds/stilessexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Allison breaks. Stiles is partially responsible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Breaking Your Own Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed their friendship (or the little we got of it, I guess) and I really wished we could've gotten a scene where something like this happened. Oh and um, warning, this is totally unbetaed and the product of insomnia!

“Allison, stop.” His voice cracked, “Just stop,” his hands went to fists because he needed her not to see them shaking. He’s strong, he can do this. He’s not scared of her –fuck, it’s Allison, and he’s not scared of her. Or the compact bow held tight in her hand, or the way her knuckles shown white, or –or the way she had it pointed at him.  

She’s his friend. He’s not scared of her.

“Stiles,” she said firmly, but the hoarse quality of her voice made him wince. Her eyes were rimmed red. “I don’t want to hurt you,”

“I know,” he replied, hitching his face into a smile, “and you won’t,”

“I will if –

“If you have to?” he finished for her, watched the way her jaw worked and flexed, the way she raised her chin in defiance “You don’t have to, Ally. You never have to.”

“My mother is dead, Stiles.” She clenched her jaw against the words, like she could keep them from coming out. He wanted to tell her that she’d feel that way for the rest of her life. He wanted to tell her that saying those words would always feel like her heart’s being dragged out through her throat. “She’s dead.”

“This?” he gestured around the dark woods, “You going after the Pack like –like they’re actual animals, Jesus Christ, Allison, do you think this’ll bring her back? Or make you feel better?”

“N-no!” she stuttered, her voice rising, defensive –resolve crumbling “They’re not human!”

“Is that what you’re saying to yourself? Is that what makes this okay?” He tried to keep his voice from rising, tried to keep his heart steady. The last thing he needed was the pack tracking him down because of his fucking heartbeat. “Because it’s not okay –if you haven’t figured that out yet, Ally. None of this is okay. You’re hurting them –god, they’re a bunch of kids.”

“M-my mother’s dead, Stiles.” She repeated, like it explained everything, and in a way it did. “And it’s Derek’s fault, it’s the pack’s fault,”

“Derek, he –fuck, Allison, you know he did what he did to save Scott.” He needed her to understand, but really, how could you ever explain a parent’s death? How could you ever make it okay? “Derek would never; he’d never take someone’s mother away willingly. You know that, you know what’s he’s been through.”

“Don’t,” she snarled, shaking “Don’t you dare defend him, Stiles, don’t you dare. He killed her.”

“She killed herself!” he yelled, and regretted it the second it left his mouth but he couldn’t, not when he’d finally said it, he couldn’t stop. “She killed herself, Allison. She chose to die.”

She stared at him –eyes wide, jaw slacked –and he thought he’d finally broken her, expected an arrow between the eyes for his troubles and flinched as the bow slipped from between her fingers and quietly hit the ground.    

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked like she thought he had the answer, she asked like it was her last resort. “How do I—

Her mouth opened and closed, her breath came heavy and jagged. She gestured to her throat, her chest, her eyes welling up with tears.

“I know,” his throat felt raw, like it does every time he thinks about his own mom. He took the few steps needed, and fit her into the circle of his arms. “Allison, I know, remember?”

“Stiles, I can’t breathe.” She choked, panicked. “I can’t breathe. I don’t remember how to breathe.”

“Yeah, I know” he repeated, rubbing her back.

“Can you breathe?” She looked up at him through wet lashes,

“Sometimes, usually” he whispered –voice rasping with his own tears. “Sometimes it hurts –it hurts so much, like it just happened.”

“I can’t do this,” she clutched –dug her finger into the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s get better,” his fingers found her hair; and twisted into the soft strands “I know you don’t want to hear that, but some days are really good.”

“and the bad days?” she asked, shaking

“Are bad –real bad,” he didn’t bother wiping his tears, didn’t bother wiping hers either “the bad days are the worst, but after a while…the bad days aren’t so bad anymore.”

“How?” she cried, broken  

“You have friends,” he found himself crying with her; found them on their knees in the dirt of the woods, clutching at each other and crying for their mothers. “You have your dad. You have Scott. You have an entire life ahead of you. Okay?”

“Yeah,” she sobbed, “Yeah, okay”

“You’re my friend, Allison” he tried going for a smile, felt it mangled on his face “I won’t let you be a dumbass, got it?”

“Got it,” half-sobbing, and half-laughing “I got it,”

“Good,” he hugged her tight, and let her cry. 


End file.
